Hypnotizing
by daydreamingxxx
Summary: My name is Aiza Monett... I have a plan... all I need are my eyes... I will compete in The Hunger Games...and I will win. This is not an ordinary career tribute. Yes she volenteered but she has a different victory in mind. I suck at summaries, sorry.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Guess what! I am not Suzanne Collins! *crowd gasps in astonishment* therefore I do not own the hunger games *crowd gasps dramatically again* hey where did the big crowd come from? *crowd disappears in a puff of smoke* Aww I'm lonely now.**

**A/N: This story is totally OOC. The idea just came to me and I thought it may be fun to write so I did. It will probably be rubbish but hey, here goes... **

Prologue

I've always been able to do it. For as long as I can remember I have seen it as a curse but now I see it as potential.

My inspiration? Katniss Everdeen, and her act with the berries. An act of defiance, even if it was brought on by love. She lives in the Victor's Village of district twelve now, married to Peeta, little does she know what she has started.

She has played her part though, now it's my turn.

There will be no mistakes this time. I won't say the wrong thing at the wrong time, it hurts when I do.

People should really learn not to look me in the eye.

My name is Aiza Monett and I am going to destroy the capitol.

**A/N: I thought a little prologue would work well for this story. The first chapter should be up soon, hopefully by tomorrow. But please don't hesitate to tell me what you think so far. I for one review pretty much every story I read so please do the same, also tell me if you want me to check out any of your stories. XD**


	2. Volunteering

**Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I am not Suzanne Collins blah blah blah I do not own the hunger games blah blah blah the hunger games is awesome!! (and not blah)**

**A/N: Here is chapter one as promised. Enjoy and please review. **

Chapter 1: Volunteering

Surprises are what I do best. People don't expect me, that's why I have to do it this way. I can't just volunteer else people will expect me to do well. So it must be my name that Jakiry Himblesmith reads out. 4:30am time to go to the mayor's house where Jakiry, district 7's announcer, is staying.

I creep silently through the shadows, nearly there, just two more streets to go. I hear a twig snap behind me and I spin round, only to see a fox dart into a bush. Why am I so paranoid? It's not like anybody is going to see me, even if they did they wouldn't think anything of it. I always walk the streets in the dead of night, everybody knows this. If you asked anyone in my part of town who the most restless sleeper is they would say me. It's because of the nightmares I get. About my sister, the one I lost. Everybody thinks she drowned in the river – lie, but I let them believe it because they can never know the truth, not even my father, no, especially not my father.

I pause across the street from the mayor's house. A window has been left open – perfect, they are making this way too easy.

I am slim so agility has never been a problem for me. I climb the tree by the window in barely any time at all. I bet I would fit right in in the orchards of district 11. Like rue, the girl who competed in the games last year. She was so sweet and small. She was too young to die but then again what is the right age to die?

I crawl along the branch that reaches out towards the open window. The gap between me and the window is not too big; I think I can make it. I step onto the window frame but my foot gets caught on the ledge and I tumble through.

I lie there, frozen on the ground, not daring to even breathe. The person in the bed stirs but doesn't wake. I slowly get up and tip-toe over to the sleeping figure. It's Jakiry, the afro gives it away, though I barely recognise him without all his face paint and make-up.

I touch it shoulder and gently shake him, "Jakiry, Jakiry I need you to wake up," I whisper so as not to wake anybody else in the house up. He grunts and his eyes flicker open, I clasp my hand over his mouth before he can say a word. His eyes widen in shock, or is it fear? I can't tell. I turn his head so he is facing towards me and with my other hand I put a finger to my lips, signalling him to be quiet.

"Don't worry," I say, "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need to tell you something and I need you to listen carefully, ok?" He nods as best he can seeing as his head is still restricted by my hand.

"Good, now I need you to look me in the eyes," He does, "Tomorrow at the reaping I want you to say my name, it doesn't matter what name is on the slip of paper from the girls bowl I want you to say Aiza Monett, got that, good, now go back to sleep."

I drop my hand from his mouth and watch as he falls back to sleep. I look at the clock on his bedside table 5:36, time to go. I slip silently down the stairs and out of the front door, there was no point taking the window root again when it wasn't necessary.

I run quickly through the streets, might as well start training now. I stop to get a quick drink of water from the pump in the town square. Normally people would be out here setting up market stalls by this time. But not today, never on the morning of the reaping. I jog slowly back to the house thinking one thing, it's too late to turn back now. The thought doesn't scare me though because I don't want to turn back, I've thought my plan through.

The house is still dark when I reach it so I enter through my window (we live in a bungalow so it isn't hard to reach). This window entrance thing seems to be becoming a hobby. I can hear my dad's snores through the wall as I slip between my covers. I think of him lying in the room next door with Mum's ring around his neck and tears prick in my eyes. With a sinking heart I whisper into the darkness,

"I'm really sorry dad but I had to do it, I hope you'll forgive me one day."

**A/N: Ok so I thought that this chapter was rather short, what do you think too long, too short or just right? Let me know please. Updates won't always be this quick it's only because it's half term. Thanks for reading and please review. Reviews encourage writing.**


	3. The Reaping

**Disclaimer: Thou shall not tell a lie so thou does not own The Hunger Games. **

**A/N: Promised myself that I would post today so I have. I quite like this chapter but I'm not sure. Anyway tell me what you think. **

Chapter 2: The Reaping

_She is running through the woods, tripping over rocks and tree roots. Tears are streaming down her face but here eyes don't look sad, they look distant. Then a hover craft appears above the trees, a huge claw reaches down and grabs her, lifts her high into the sky and into the huge metal shell._

I wake panting and sweating. I kick away my covers and curl up into a ball. I don't want to get up, I don't want to move, but I have to. It's time to get ready for the reaping, I wonder who will get chosen? I feel a smirk grow on my face as I leaver myself up from my small wooden bed.

I get dressed extraordinarily slowly, readjusting the bow at the front of my dress at least twenty times. The rose red of dress makes my already pale skin look snowy white. I look like a porcelain doll with my silky black hair reaching just below my shoulder blades and my straight fringe. Then there are my eyes. My eyes actually do look like they are made of glass, they are so shiny and bright. Green with flecks of gold in them, even if I do say so myself they are beautiful, maybe that is why people can't look away from them. I slip on a pair of simple black flats and walk into the kitchen where my dad is eating a slice of toast and honey.

"There you go weird Jam-Girl," my dad says pushing a plate of toast and jam towards me.

"Thanks Honey-Boy," I laugh grinning. I take a bite of my toast, "Yummmy yummy yummy jam in my tummy," I sing dancing round the table.

My dad pulls a face of disgust, "Yuck, honey is way nicer; I don't see how you can actually eat that stuff!" This is the only argument me and my dad ever have, in fact we have this argument every morning, which is better honey or jam?

"Admit it," I say, "You love jam really," I skip over to him and give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Look the colour even matches my dress." I hold the slice of toast up next to my dress.

"They're different shades of red."

Damn, I'm stumped, "Yeah well, urm, honey is made by bees and bees are bad because they sting people so honey must be bad too." Beat that one dad.

"Aha but jam is made from squished berries, jam kills the berries! Jam is murder!" My dad looks around pretending to be all wide-eyed in horror.

"Dad," I sigh, "Berries don't have feelings."

"Yes they do."

"No they don't and anyway how would you know?"

"Because I am the king of the berries!" My dad cries adding an (awfully bad) evil laugh for effect.

"So you must like jam." I try, does he have a come back? Does he have a come back?

"No," shoot, "Why would I like something that contains the dead bodies of my people?"

Sheesh, urm, got one, "Because from the sound of you laugh you seem like an evil king."

"I am only evil to you because you eat jam."

"But Daddy," I bat my eyelids, "You can't be evil to me, I'm your little princess." I give a twirl as if to demonstrate the point. My dad looks at his watch.

"And it looks about time to make my little princess sparkle." I guess the argument's over

My dad and I lock up the house and head next door to our shop. We own the jewellers, it is not a big business in District 7 but the richer population pay very well for our goods. It's enough to get by anyhow. Every reaping my dad lets me wear some of the stock. This year I choose a huge gold necklace and an assortment of rings – nothing too expensive, not this time. Then I put on my charm bracelet, it has sixteen charms. My dad started adding the charms but then I took over, one gets added every year. If you look at them closely you will spot a pattern, each charm is linked to the winner of the Hunger Games on the year it was added. I finger the two latest editions, a flaming arrow and a loaf of bread. I smile, this will be the perfect lucky charm for the games, I think that was my father's plan all along, in case I ever got chosen.

We walk to the town square in silence. It is quite full when we get there, I start to walk over to where the fifteen year olds are standing – I always look out of place in my age group, yes I may be fifteen but I only look about thirteen - but my dad pulls me back. He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and whispers, "Good luck."

I take both of his hands in mine and look into his eyes, "I love you, remember that." I say

"Ditto," we both brave a smile before he walks away. I watch him, dreading the heartbreak he is going to endure – heartbreak caused by me.

As Jakiry Himblesmith and the Mayor take to the stage along with our two victors I hurry over to stand next to my one and only friend Everest Campbell. His white hair (or just very light blonde as he calls it) is splayed in front of his eyes. He thinks it makes him look gorgeous, I tell him it makes him look stupid – lie, he does look gorgeous, so so gorgeous. I really like him, as in _like _like him. But nobody knows and I'm too afraid to tell him. I can only pray that it isn't his name that's called.

"Good luck." I whisper slipping my hand into his. Between us this is not a romantic gesture, we walked into school on the first day holding hands, it's just normal, friendly, comforting. He gazes at me with his soft amber eyes. He doesn't need to say 'you too' out loud, I understand. You only really know a person when you can have a conversation with your eyes.

"Good morning District 7!" Jakiry Himblesmith's voice booms out on the loud speaker, "Happy Hunger Games!" Time to see my plan in action.

I hop from one foot to the other as the Mayor makes all his 'important' speeches, the ones I have never listened to. Everest gives me a strange look, a 'why are you so agitated?' look. I shrug back and place my feet more firmly on the ground.

After what seems like years, or a matter of minutes as a clock would say, Jakiry Himblesmith steps up to the microphone once more.

"I think we'll start with the boys this year, what do you think?" rhetorical question, you're not meant to answer, something I often forget.

***Teacher – "Would you like to hand out these sheets Aiza?"

Me - "No."

Teacher – "Detention!"***

Jakiry dives his hand into the bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd holds its breath as he unfolds it.

"Zizal Karry! Congratulations Zizal, would you like to join me on stage?" A boy slowly stumbles forward, he looks as timid as a mouse, I bet he's only twelve. He has muddy brown hair and a very thin face. As he mounts the stage he looks like he is trying to smile, but failing badly. Jakiry gives him a quick nod before walking across the stage towards the girls bowl.

"Ladies?" Jakiry gives a mischievous grin. He picks out the first piece of paper he lays his hand on because of course he knows what name he has to say.

"And the girl tribute is... Aiza Monett!"

My heart plummets like a stone, hearing my name out loud I realise what I have been dreading I would come to think, that my plan doesn't actually work!

I thought it all out perfectly, went over it again and again in my head – so why didn't I see this one floor? I covered it up with a rug, convinced myself that it looked fine but in truth it doesn't. Trust me that floor underneath is really bad, it's unwalkable...

The floor?

I don't actually want to do this.

**A/N: Aha what is going to happen next, is she going to reveal that she rigged it? Or was it actually her name on the paper? Will someone else volunteer? Will she compete? Will a banana come to life and run through the streets pretending to be Batman? Will she find a random pot of bubble mixture to play with? Who knows, well I do but that's beside the point. Question for you... what do you think happened to her sister? Tell me in your review, I would love to hear your theories. Anyway I probably won't be updating for a while because I have exams all next week (only end of years but we will be getting streamed) so I shall be doing lots of lovely revision ( sarcasm if you didn't guess). My total is zero hours so far lol. Thanks for reading and please review!**

**IMPORTANT: I need some help! Does anybody know what District 7 represents? I need to start thinking of a chariot outfit! **


	4. Over My Shoulder

**A/N: Sorry that it has taken so long to update. My exams are nearly over, just one to go! Hurray. But the chapter is quite long, for me anyway, over 2,500 words! Yeah, I kind of wrote this while my parents thought I was doing my English essay so better get back to doing that.**

**Thankyou to all of my reviewers so far: DrivesLikeACullen; xCrystalNightx; .x; Kiara212; MZC16; XxSarahCullenxX; Shelby Cobra; UnderlandSavior and Jane. This chapter is dedicated to you guys.**

**Anyways ENJOY!**

Chapter 3: Over My Shoulder

Once, when Everest and I were younger, we went to the park. It was a beautiful day, birds were singing and the sun shone high in the sky. We were flying a kite; running and screaming like, well like little kids but then it got stuck in a tree. Everest, acting all brave, climbed the tree to retrieve it but when he got to the top he was scared. He didn't want to jump down. There was no other way to get down and he couldn't stay up there forever. He had no choice; the plan only had one exit.

I hear a cry like a distress beacon, it is a distress beacon, it's my father. I turn towards the noise. My father is being held back by four strong men, tears are streaming down his face – I really didn't think this through.

I am evil. His heart broke once when my sister disappeared. He took it better than my mother. A week after my sister's 'death' she killed herself, she couldn't take it – heartbreak number two. But he stayed, for me. And now I am set to compete in the Hunger Games. He doesn't know my secret, he probably expects me to die – his heart will break again. Who can survive three heartbreaks?

I look away, I can't watch anymore.

I look at Everest, his eyes are filled with pain, I can't take that either.

So I look to my destination, the stage.

I let go of Everest's hand and my fear ignites.

Before it was just a spark, a realisation that I had made a mistake, that I didn't actually want to do this. But it was ok, it was manageable because it was being kept under control by my faith in my gift, by the power of my eyes; I almost hypnotised myself.

I didn't hypnotise myself. If I really did then fires of fear wouldn't be pulsing through my body right now - because my hypnotising never fails.

But what if I don't get the chance to look my competitor in the eye? What if I get knifed in the back during the blood bath? What if I starve? What if I get ambushed by career tributes? What if I can't actually kill somebody?

I feel myself start to fall. I feel the blackness closing in, drowning the fire, and I welcome it. Besides this might be good for my image, a damsel in distress. It will make me more surprising.

*****

I feel a hand on my shoulder. Not a kind, comforting one but a rough one. I open my eyes and find myself looking straight into the eyes of a peace keeper.

"You all right now?" he asks and for a split second I think I see pity in his eyes, "Come on now, go to the stage. Competing in the Hunger Games will be fun!" Oh yeah, he's a peace keeper. He doesn't know the meaning of the word pity.

"How long was I out?" I hope it wasn't too long, I want to appear timid but not pathetic.

The peace keeper laughs, "Only about thirty seconds."

"Well, that's not too embarrassing."

I look down at my feet trying to work out if they'll be able to hold my weight. I don't know why but I randomly start giggling. The peace keeper booming laugh joins in. We sit there in the middle of a confused crowd, and laugh.

Heaven knows how long we sat there but we stop silent when we hear Jakiry's voice,

"Aiza, could you come up to the stage now please."

I do as I am asked; I think I've caused enough drama – for now anyway. My steps are slow and tiny. The stage feels so far away all I can thinks is how I don't want to be doing this. It's not fair, people shouldn't be able to make stupid decisions.

I don't want to compete in the Hunger Games.

I don't want to compete in the Hunger Games.

I don't want to compete in the Hunger Games.

I just want to win them.

But I don't want to kill anybody... So I won't; I'll make them die but _I _won't kill them. Still, I don't want to have to do that either.

I reach the stage and turn to face the crowd. My dad is on his knees and still crying but Everest hasn't moved, I think he's in shock. Zizal is staring at me like I'm a mad woman... then again maybe I am.

I turn to face Jakiry, "Hey." I am supposed to greet the announcer, right?

"Hey, mind letting us in on the joke?"

I look straight into one of the cameras, "Well, you know that it's said there is a thin line between love and hate? Well I guess there is also a thin line between fear and humour." I barely whisper the words however true they are; I am so scared now, I was so scared then, I don't know why I laughed.

"Aw bless, she has gone all shy now." Jakiry addresses the crowd this time, "Well, let's have a round of applause for District 7's tributes for the 75th Hunger Games, Zizal Karry and Aiza Monett!"

A brief ripple of applause flutters from the audience as Zizal and I shake hands. I take my first proper look at him; unsurprisingly his eyes are filled with fear of death. However I do not think he will be new to pain, his nose is crooked indicating several breakings and there is a scar above his left eye. He won't have any visitors in the justice building, you can tell just by looking at him that he is from the orphanage.

Ages ago, way back in history, orphanages used to be all right: kids were treated well; fed properly and loved. But it's gone downhill from there, nowadays orphan pretty much equals rodent.

However much I disagree with common views of kids from the orphanage, I feel I must think of him as a rodent. Maybe, just maybe, it will make it easier to send him to his death.

Besides he does kind of look like a rat.

I am escorted to the justice building by an extremely fat peace keeper. Stupid over fed capitol robots. The peace keeper holds a very firm grip on my shoulder, does he honestly expect me to faint again?

The room I am led into is extraordinarily posh. A gold framed mirror hangs one wall and the others are painted lilac. I kick my shoes off and sink my bare feet into the soft cream carpet, it is so soft it feels like walking on ice-cream only not cold, obviously. A plush couch stands in the corner; I suppose that is where I am meant to sit.

I curl up into a ball and rub my hands along the silky, purple fabric. I have not been sitting for long when my dad bursts through the door.

His face is red and streaky, blotched with tears. My heart shatters into more pieces than I ever thought possible. At least I won't actually be able to see his face when I am actually competing in the games.

I try to put a positive spin on all of this, but it's impossible. So instead I break down and cry with him.

We sob for ages. Both starting sentences but finishing them with a wail and more tears.

"The bracelet..." he starts and I nod, I know.

When my sobbing eventually stops I start the speech I have prepared, even though my tears are still freely flowing.

"Dad, I love you more than anything in the whole world. Please forgive me for anything I do in the games. I will only be doing it because I need to win – I promise, Dad, I'm coming home. I'm going to come back to you so please stay strong until then. Don't do anything stupid; I can't lose you like I lost Mum, I love you too much. And Dad..." I lean closer and whisper in his ear, "I am going to be the last victor of the Hunger Games."

My dad only has time to give me a confused look before a peace keeper barges into the room and drags him away.

I sit back down, tucking my feet underneath me and try to stop crying.

I fail miserably. However the tears are less rapid now.

The door opens for the second time and Everest shuffles in.

I bite my lip and look downwards, tears falling onto my dress.

I hear Everest moving closer. I feel Everest sit down on the couch next to me. Then I feel Everest's hands cup my face.

I close my eyes as he brings my face upwards. I expect him to tell me to stay strong; to promise to come home or wish me luck. I sit and wait for the words.

But no words come. Instead I feel his lips touch my cheek as his starts kissing away my tears, literally.

Maybe I don't know him as well as I think I do. Maybe it was actually both of us who were too afraid to show our true feelings.

His kissing stops and I open my eyes to look at him,

"Aiza, I'm sorry. I..." I lean forward and press my lips against his to let him know that it's all right – it's more than alright.

After a few minutes we break apart. I rest my head against his shoulder and sigh.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that." I whisper

"I think it's safe to say we were never just friends, we've always been something more."

"I just didn't realise it was love."

"I love you," he says as he kisses the top of my head. Typical, they always confess their undying love for you when you're on your death bed, couch.

I reach up and stroke his cheek, "I'm coming back you know, I'm going to win."

"Please do."

Should I tell him about my eyes? Should I tell him how I intend to win? Should I tell him about my bigger picture?

"Everest, there is something I need to tell you." We are now sitting facing each other, holding hands, "There is something I can do with my eyes, I can... I can hypnotise people." I look away, for once not knowing what his response will be.

"I know." What? How can he know? "I saw what happened with your sister." Oh God, he saw!

"It's ok, I know you didn't mean to do it."

He's right, I didn't mean to.

It was four years ago, when my sister was fourteen. I was in the kitchen playing with my dolls. She was there too, teasing me. I was getting upset, I was getting annoyed. I looked up and told her to get lost, but as I said the words my eyes locked with hers. The next morning my sister's bed was empty, she was gone. A man said he had seen her down by the river, that's where the drowning theory came from. No body was ever found. My sister was lost.

Everest shakes me lightly by the shoulder

"Let me guess, if you think deeply into the memory you see a flash of white by an open window?"

I think then I nod. I do remember seeing a flash of white by an open window.

He points to his hair which makes me smile. He stares at me puzzled.

"You finally admitted that your hair is white."

"No comment."

"That's how I'm going to win." He nods, "Then I'm going to come home and kiss you again." I smirk spreads across Everest's face, "Before I head back to the capitol and hypnotize President Snow into stopping the Hunger Games once and for all."

"No! Aiza don't be crazy, you can't do that. It's too dangerous, I forbid you to do it."

"Fine, we can argue about it when I get back." I know who is going to win that argument.

"If you get back." Everest says with sorrow in his voice.

"You doubt me?" I ask, shocked and feeling betrayed.

"No, just reminding you that the overly confident hare got over taken by the tortoise."

"So now I'm a rabbit?"

"And if you are a good rabbit and win you can have a bowl of carrots when you get back." Everest kisses me on the nose and I giggle.

"I love you." I say and kiss Everest again.

"I'm scared Everest, I don't want to do this, I don't actually want to compete in the Hunger Games."

"I know, I know," He soothes stroking my hair, "Don't worry, you didn't choose to do this." I bury my face in his shirt.

"But I did, Everest, I hypnotised Jakiry."

"No, the Aiza that is going to compete in the Hunger Games hypnotised Jakiry."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of her as a different person. It will make it easier... easier to kill them."

He's right, it will. It doesn't stop me being afraid though.

"But don't worry, I'll love both Aizas."

There is a knock at the door and the peace keeper that laughed with me at the reaping pokes his head round,

"Times up."

Everest gives me one last peck on the lips and ducks out the door. The peace keeper closes the door, keeping himself on the inside.

"Mind if I visit." What!? He wants to visit, he wants to talk? I nod, astonished.

"Didn't expect me did you?"

"I don't know you." I state, simply because it is a simple statement.

"I don't know you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I want you to win."

"Why?" Why does he want me to win? What makes me so special?

He shrugs his shoulders, "Dunno, there's just something about you that says your worth keeping." With that he backs out of the room; my last visitor, a peace keeper, a stranger who believes in me.

I have to stay in my room all day. I receive a light lunch because I am set to have a feast when I get on the train.

By the time I leave it is dark. A sleek, black car takes me to the train station.

For a reason I can't work out the station was built on the top of a really tall hill. From the top you can see nearly all of district 7: the shops and the schools; the houses and the gardens; the markets and the cobbled streets.

Before I step onto the train I take one last look over my shoulder, district 7 is a maze of light.

It is tradition in our district for, on the night after the reaping, every person to light a candle and stand outside their house.

It is a symbol to offer guidance in the dark days they will spend in the arena. A light to guide them to victory.

It barely ever works.

I wonder, is Everest out there? Holding a candle and wishing me well. Thinking of me like I am thinking of him, as I board the train and become Aiza 2 – the Aiza who chose to compete in the Hunger Games.

**A/N: What did you think? Like the romance or thought that it sucked? Tell me either way, constructive criticism is very welcome.**

**So you found out what happened with her sister! Only one person guessed and well lets say they were pretty close-ish. **

**Don't know if anybody has noticed this but I could not resist calling someone Everest and giving them white hair.**

**Also nobody seems to know what district 7 represents. I read somewhere that it is construction? So if I get no corrections I will go with that.**

**Anyway thanks for reading and please review, it doesn't take long. XD**


	5. AN: excuses

**Sorry this is not an update.**

**I am really sorry that I have not updated in AGES! Things have been really hectic: I have had a dancing show on; the next chapter is really hard to write and I have loads of stuff going on at home.**

**I promise to get at least one update in before I go on holiday (possibly two). But I am on holiday for three weeks so I will be writing loads in my note book to type up when I get back (don't think I can get internet in a tent). And then I will have four weeks left of holiday so updates should be frequent. **

**So, yeah, that was a very big excuse and sorry if you were expecting an update. Please don't hate me, and if you already do then meh, flame me.**

**Anyways, if you are already on summer hols then have fun and if you are still stuck at school then, SUMMER HURRY UP! **

**Peace out**

**Daydreamingxxx **


	6. Train Tracks

**A/N: Here is the promised chapter, sorry it has been so long since I updated, please don't hate me.**

**Enjoy! Btw I have not proof read this chapter so sorry is there are any mistakes.**

Chapter 4: Train Tracks

"...46, 47, 48, 49, 50. Ready or not here I come!" I hear Jakiry finish counting. We are playing hide and seek, my suggestion. Jakiry insisted on playing party games after the feast. I don't want to play. I just want to hide.

I want to stay here forever. Curled up in this cupboard, alone but safe. Safe from what I am to face, safe from the Hunger Games. Aiza 2 is allowed to be scared right? There is nothing in the rule book that says Aiza 2 has to be brave, there isn't even a rule book. I am still making the decisions, so what help is being a different Aiza? Oh, Everest I need you, I need you with me now. I'm scared.

I can see what Jakiry is trying to do. Get us to play games... he thinks it will help us to relax, stop us being so scarred. It is not working; if we can't win these party games how are we supposed to win the Hunger Games? Jakiry is actually a really nice guy, the thought is there - he is just too caught up in his capitol ways to understand.

But that peace keeper, what was he about?

What if the other tributes are like him? What if they're _nice_? Will I or Aiza 2 be able to kill them?

Again, in theory my plan works but in practice? I don't know. It's only twenty three, I only have to kill twenty three. That's twenty three too many but they will be the last to die. No more needless deaths after that.

Twenty three red marks on the canvas of my bigger picture.

My bigger picture is a democracy not a dictatorship. A world in which no one is left starving. A place where children can live in safety without the Hunger Games looming over them.

I go over my plan once more in my head. Five simple steps.

Become a victor of the Hunger Games.

Go home and act like a normal victor so as not to gain suspicion.

Take a holiday to the capitol like many victors do.

Go and visit President Snow.

Hypnotise...

"Found you!" Jakiry shouts as he swings open the cupboard door. I sigh and stiffly clamber out of my hiding spot. Joy, now I have to be seen... now I actually have to act _alive_.

I don't feel alive inside, I feel dead. In my mind I am at a dead end because I don't want to have to make decisions. And without making decisions I can't move forward.

People aren't just going to die straight away.

I can't walk into the arena, click my fingers and expect them to just drop like flies.

In my plan, in my head, that is what I did. However real life is so different to my plan it seems. Clicking my fingers won't work.

Using my eyes however will work. It is just timing. If I kill someone in front of all the other tributes they will know my secret. Then they will not look me in the eye... I would be defenceless. I would be dead meat, literally.

I ask Jakiry if I may be excused. He says yes and dip into my cabin. I lie down on the bed, not bothering to change my clothes and let the rumbling of the train lull me to sleep.

I am woken by someone blowing in my ear. I lash out with my hand and find my target. Whoever it is, is now on the floor by the sounds of it. I sit up and peer over the edge of the bed, which by the way is huge, at my victim. It's Zizal. Staring at him lying there, on the ground, I make a decision.

I grab the collar of his shirt and yank him to his feet. With my other hand I grab his jaw and turn his head towards mine. I can feel his breath, ragged on my face as I lock my eyes with his.

"At the beginning of the Hunger Games step off your podium before the gong sounds, ok?"

Zizal nods, I drop my head and release my grip. I couldn't kill the other tribute from my district on live TV; snap decisions seem to be working so far.

"God you're weird," Zizal frowns at me... I freeze, he can't remember being hypnotised, can he? "There's no need to choke somebody just because they wake you up!"

Phew, I think I'm safe, "Sorry, you just scared me."

Zizal nods, "Jakiry says it is time to get up. The replay of the reapings are about to start."

I get up and start pulling random clothes out of the wardrobe, "Great, time to size up our competition."

"Nah," I turn to face Zizal who has an accusing look on his face, "I'm just going to be keeping my eye on you!" With that he exits the room.

"Yeah, good luck with that." I mutter before pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and a polo top.

I reach the train's lounge just as district 1's reaping is starting. I sit down silently next to Jakiry and slip my hand into Jakiry's to try and keep calm. It is not working, his hand just isn't the same as Everest's.

As usual all the tributes for district's 1 and 2 are careers. None of them look too hard to beat, as in they all seem pretty thick, apart from maybe the girl from 2. Cee Fox I think her name was, she's one to watch. She has so many cuts on her body that she looks like a walking voodoo doll.

The tributes from 3, 4 and 5 are nothing interesting. Hopefully they will be prey of the bloodbath not me. The tributes from district 6 are complete opposites; the girl is only twelve, small and timid, with golden curls and soft brown eyes. Whereas the boy is eighteen and a right thug; he must be bigger than any of the careers, actually it wouldn't surprise me if he teamed up with the careers.

After district 6's reaping it's my turn. They start with screen shots of district 7, rolling hills and gentle rivers. I can feel Jakiry practically burst with pride when he is shown on screen, how can somebody be so proud of reading what is practically a death list? Zizal's name is called and he goes up to the stage, somehow on screen he looks braver than he did in real life. I watch as Jakiry flounces over to the girls bowl, time seems to slow as he reaches in his hand and picks out a slip of paper. I can't help but wonder, whose name is actually written there? Whose fate did I tempt? Whose world did I glue back together before they even knew it was broken?

As Jakiry says my name a new wave of pain shoots through me. A spider spins a fresh web of fear over my heart. I am going to compete in the Hunger Games; I am jumping off the cliff onto jagged rocks with only a slight chance that I will land in deep waters. It just doesn't seem real, not yet at least; however when I am running for my life I'm fairly sure it will.

The girl on the TV screen does not seem like me. I watch her freeze on the spot, her hand glued to the handsome boy next to her. As I let go of Everest's hand it is very clear how tightly he tries to hold on. Then I faint. In the scheme of things it is a very dramatic faint, just like one you would see in a play. I start to sway and then my legs give way and I fall in slow motion to the floor. Except I don't hit it. The kind peace keeper actually caught me bringing on a series of gasps from the audience.

I turn to my left and see everybody staring at me. I just shrug my shoulders and turn back to the screen.

The peace keeper is gently shaking me, trying to get me to wake up. I do. For the replay of the reaping the sound has obviously been amplified as you can clearly hear our convocation. When I start laughing I look so girly and really young. I feel so stupid watching myself act this way. One thing I am proud of is how chilling I sound when I say: "Well, you know that it's said there is a thin line between love and hate? Well I guess there is also a thin line between fear and humour." Hopefully I come off as confusing with all the mood swings I threw in during the reaping rather than just having a seriously messed up personality.

We sit through the next four reapings in silence. My only concern is the boy from nine who is very fast, when his name is called he runs up to the stage like a cheater. Also the girl from ten who has lost an eye; fingers crossed hypnotism still works with one eye because it doesn't look like she is going down without a fight.

Excitement levels go from nought to a hundred as district 12's reaping starts. There is just this buzz about Katniss and Peeta Mellark. The boy tribute for district 12 is fifteen and quite muscular. He is very pale and quite eerie, he already looks dead. The girl is thirteen and very bubbly, a people person from the looks of the crowd she was standing in the middle of.

The reapings finish just as we are pulling into the capitol station. Zizal and I sit in silence by the carriage door waiting for a short prep from our mentors who have yet to speak to us.

"Hey you two I'm Key and this is Thistle." Our male mentor introduces himself and Thistle.

"How are you holding up?" It is Thistle that speaks this time, her name doesn't suit her. She sounds sympathetic and kind not prickly and harsh.

"Ok, I guess." I mumble and Zizal coughs, "given the circumstances." I add quickly.

"Well your prep teams will be waiting so you better get going." I swear Key never puts any emotion into anything he says.

"Just do what they say and keep screams to a minimum."

With that Zizal and I are dismissed. We are herded to our dressing room by peace keepers like cattle by a farmer.

My prep team look like they have stepped out of a circus, honestly they look like clowns.

They are evil clowns.

No joke I think they are trying to torture me. I heard that waxing hurt but OUCH!

After hours of creams, bubbles and files they announce that I am decent. I grab my robe as quickly as I can and cover myself up. I do not enjoy being naked in public, and yes three people does count as public. I stand in the middle of the room because at the moment my legs feel too fragile to sit on.

The handle of the door twists and district 12's stylist walks in.

"What..." I start but he holds up his hand to stop me. He walks round me in a circle before clapping he hands together and jumping up and down on the spot.

He stops and mutters seemingly to himself, "Bro, you're going down this year."

"Excuse me?"

He looks up appearing to be astonished that I speak, "Oh, um, yes... hi I'm Pinna and I shall be you're stylist this year."

"I thought you're name was Cinna?"

"Oh, right, no that's my brother." He points to himself, "Twin."

I nod, that explains a lot, hopefully he will be as inventive as his brother, "First year?"

"Yeah, don't worry though you will look phenomenal!"

"I'm not worrying."

Pinna smiles and pulls me into a hug. One I welcome with gratitude.

**A/N: Oh yeah, Cinna has a twin! I love Cinna so why not double him? I shall now be away for three weeks! So no updates for ages, SORRY! The story will return so please don't abandon it. I have noticed that more people are reading this than the number of reviews I am receiving. Oh well, I write anyway but it is nice to get some reviews. Thanks for reading, have a great summer (guess what, it's raining outside typical England).**

**Oh btw check out my friend's story it is called 'Breeze In The Wind'. (There you go Catherine I promised I would advertise your story)**

**REVIEW! **


	7. Wilting Roses

**Disclaimer: Before anybody asks I do not own The Hunger Games.**

**A/N: I am back in rainy England, hurray! SORRY I haven't updated in AGES! Turns out I did not write much on hols, and I have had major writers block since I got back, ah well. I really was not best pleased with how this chapter turned out. But I will post it anyway.**

**One last thing **_**Kevin**_**, yes you may use the name and PLEASE DON'T DIE! Oh and **_**Paige **_**DON'T DIE EITHER! Seriously why is everybody threatening to die on me?!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 5: Wilting Roses

Isn't it strange that sometimes a hug from an acquaintance is more comforting than on from someone close to you? I guess it is because a loved one will comfort you because in a way they _need _to not just because they _want _to. Or maybe when you treasure someone their arms offer love not support. Think of it like two chairs: one made of sturdy wood and one made of marshmallows. To sit on when you are hurt you would choose the wooden one, because it is more stable and wouldn't fall down with you like the marshmallow one would. Though all the while you would be wishing that the wooden chair was in fact made of marshmallows.

"Marshmallow?" Pinna asks letting go of me and reaching behind himself for a bowl. Wow, freaky! Then again I could have subconsciously been looking at the bowl whilst pondering my thoughts... still freaky! I shake my head even though I have only ever had one marshmallow in my life and loved it,

"Better not ruin my freshly whitened teeth!" Pinna holds out a white marshmallow.

"Go on. They contain special whitening, chemical, ingredienty stuff!"

"Liar." I say but snatch a sweet and pop it in my mouth anyway.

"I'll be back in a little while," Pinna says, "Just got to finish your costume."

"What?!" I start to panic, the parade is tonight! I steel a glance at the clock on the wall, in like three hours! "It's only three hours before the big show!"

"Sheesh kebab! Chill woman, there are just a lot of sequins." He turns and walks towards the door, muttering something along the lines of "I hate sequins," to put it politely.

Pinna returns twenty minutes later with a silver plastic clothes bag in one hand and a huge black briefcase-like box in the other. He sets them down on the chair and just as I am about to ask what the big black box contains he runs back out and grabs a shoe box.

I am somewhat nervous as Pinna goes to open the black briefcase. Ever since I watched this old fashioned film called _James Bond _I always have had an irrational fear that briefcases might contain guns. Silly, I know, especially now... why blow up the dice? The game would be no fun otherwise.

I peer over Pinna's shoulder and into the briefcase... it appears I am afraid of nail polish.

"Clue to your costume." He says delving into the sea of polishes.

"Let me guess... it has something to do with agriculture?" Pinna gives me a very confused look,

"No... that's district 11, you're from district 7" Well blow me down I never noticed that! Does he not understand sarcasm? I do know that district 7 is construction, I have been living there, well only all my life! Pinna pulls out two bottles of nail polish; one dark blue and the other glittery silver.

"Got it yet?" Pinna asks, grinning.

"Pinna you do know that district 7 is construction right? It's district 4 that fishes." If he has made me an outfit themed on fishing then he is as dead as a Hunger Games Tribute!

"Good, you've got the water... expand... along the theme of construction?" I stare back at him blankly. Yes I am from district 7 but my family owns the jewellers.

"Pipes?" He helps.

"Plumbing?"

"Yes! We got there eventually."

"Nobody's ever done that before." Stylists normally go for the old wood and nails approach, can't I just be normal this once... please.

"It's still a type of construction."

"True but..."

"Aiza, Aiza, Aiza." Pinna chuckles to himself, "Let me tell you a little something about my brother and I. We don't like to follow the crowd. We like to be new and imaginative. However sometimes we have to be old to be new, hence how we dress and present ourselves."

I shrug my shoulders not exactly knowing what to say. Pinna places one finger under my chin and lifts my head up.

"Hey, cheer up munchkin," and with a click of his fingers Bob Marley rings out from the loud speakers. Pinna paints my finger nails with the dark blue and then adds some silver over the top, ensuring that the blue still shows. Simple but effective. He then does the same with my toes whilst all I can do is watch, sing and fell completely and utterly helpless.

As helpless as a fish that is allergic to water.

"Costume time?" I venture once my nails have dried. Pinna stands up and throws me a pair of plain white knickers from his pocket.

"Yes," he then picks up the shoe box, "Now, I shall warn you – these are... complicated."

Inside the box are a pair of platforms and not small platforms at that! They are about two feet tall and then have a heel on top of that! Oh and get this: they are made of glass. They are crafted so perfectly that you can hardly see them. Still...GLASS!

"How do you expect me to walk in them? I'm not flipping Cinderella!" Pinna doesn't reply for a few seconds, he is too busy searching all of his pockets for something.

"Well if they fit then you can marry Prince Charming."

"I've got my own Prince Charming already, thank you very much." I've got Everest. Pinna looks at me sadly for a moment, though he seems to be thinking of something else.

"You got anyone special?" I ask, I know it's not my place but still.

"Nah, not me," He sighs, he still doesn't look contempt, "I believe that love just gives you more to lose."

"Well I think it's worth it." What I have with Everest, new though it may be, is worth anything... even twenty three lives. I will go home to him, I will.

"Risks I am not prepared to take."

"What made you decide?"

"When a woman had been sleeping with both Cinna and I... thinking we were the same person."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, that was one awkward conversation. And I just thought that if that hurt me, then what would it have been like if I had really loved her." I look up at him awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. I know what he has just told me is not the real reason. "Moving on, let's deal with these shoes."

Pinna lifts the shoes out of the box and only then do I notice the long, thin tubes attached to the heel. It is only where the light catches them that they are visible. Pinna makes me take off my dressing gown and step into the shoes. Pinna picks up the clear roll of tape that he got out of pocket earlier.

Meanwhile I wobble and fall over.

Pinna helps me stand back up again and lets go of my hands. But after a moments consideration he drags over a chair for me to hold on to. Pinna uses the tape to attach the tubes all the way up my legs and torso, right the way to my nose. He catches me staring at the tape.

"Bodytape." He says.

"Why would people need Bodytape?"

"To fit into their clothes." No way! That is ridicules... no wait, that is so Capitol! "I'll finish off the tubing just before you get in." Get in? We stand on the chariot, so what am I getting _in_?

"Get in?" Pinna just winks at me.

"You'll see."

I am blind folded as Pinna dresses me. He wants it to be a surprise.

"Wait right here." Pinna says, "I am just going to grab a mirror." And I would go where exactly? I am blindfolded with two death traps on my feet.

I hear him re-enter the room, feel his breath on the back of my neck... and then the world comes back to me.

I must say, the prep team did a nice job. My make-up is all natural tones but it looks flawless. But Pinna's outfit is... shocking?

The top is a very low V-neck, sky blue in colour. The neck line is ruffled as are the sleeves (the sleeves are thick shoulder strap style). And I don't mean tiny little ruffles, or huge ruffles. They are decent sized ruffles, about the same size as my upper arm. The rest of the top is skin tight, however more to the point there are not loads of sequins! There are two parallel lines of them straight down the middle (starting where the ruffled 'V' joins) and then a single line round the bottom of the top.

It is not the top that is shocking though. It is beautiful, quite silky in fact, but not shocking. No, it is the shiny silver hot pants that are shocking! They are immensely cool, but for a parade? Most of the other girls will be wearing dresses. Altogether the outfit should look slutty, in theory. But it doesn't... it looks kind of cute, almost playful. Yes, playful is the word.

"So?" Pinna asks

"I like it." The relief is very apparent on his face, "But there are not loads of sequins."

"I know but hey, I like exaggerating. Plus they take so long to sew on that it feels like I've put millions on."

"Is Zizal dressed similar?"

"No, his stylist and I worked separately for the most part."

"Oh, okay."

"I just gave her some guidelines for what I needed, she was very understanding."

Fifteen minutes later I find myself standing in an elevator, in front of my mentors, next to Zizal. Zizal is dressed in a blue jumpsuit, chunky workers boots and a yellow hard hat. Basically he looks like a plumber.

"Well, don't you both look lovely." Thistle says

"Now, the parade starts in half an hour and you two are up seventh. Okay?" Zizal and I both nod. The elevator stops and we get out. Key leads us into cars with blacked out windows.

The drive takes us about five minutes. But five minutes seems like so much longer when nobody speaks! The leather seats stick to my skin and the twinkling lights on the ceiling do nothing but annoy me. Pinna opens the car door for us and the moment I step out he picks me up and bundles me over his shoulder.

"We don't have much time." He exclaims running in I don't know what direction. I'm hanging upside down!

"I can run by myself Pinna!" I shout hammering on his back with my fists."

"You're not Cinderella, remember. You said so yourself." Point taken.

When I am eventually put back on my own two feet I am standing in a dimly lit backstage area. There are boxes and wires everywhere. Stylists and mentor striding round importantly and tributes standing with hunches shoulders and downcast eyes. I glance to my left and my gaze lands on Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark... my inspiration. Standing next to a huge number 12... kissing!

I don't get to look any longer because Pinna drags me over to a chariot with a glass cylinder standing in it. The top rim has a strip of metal round it with big, decorative brass bolts glued on. The bottom is the same. The glass cylinder is really big, big enough to fit a person in it... me in it! Pinna is staring at it grinning like a Cheshire cat. Me? I am looking at it and thinking EEEK! I then look down at me feet and think EEEK again!

Pinna clicks his fingers and a beeping noise commences from somewhere behind us. I turn around to see a forklift truck heading our way, driven by a member of my prep team. When the forklift is positioned right in front of the chariot it stops and the driver gives Pinna a thumbs up. Pinna hops on the front of the forklift and then motions me to join him.

"You've gotta be kidding, right?"

"Well how else are you meant to get in?" My worst fears are confirmed, I am going in the cylinder. I think the cylinder is meant to represent a pipe and I am the water? The driver raises the fork until we are the height of the cylinder.

"How do we do this exactly?" I ask because I can't do the obvious option which is to jump because, well, my shoes are made of glass after all. Pinna slips his arms under mine and kicks my feet off the fork. Thankfully he lowers me into the cylinder a little more gently than that.

"Ok so I get it, this is the pipe, I am the water and Zizal is the plumber. I love it!" Hopefully Pinna is happy with the result.

"No. That is the pipe, Zizal is the plumber, you are the water nymph that lives in the pipe and that..." Pinna points to the hose being dangled into the cylinder behind me, "...is the water." Right on queue the hosepipe is turns on and freezing cold water starts pouring into the cylinder.

"Pinna, how am I meant to breath!"

"When the water gets to neck level stick the tubes up your nose. Then just breath through your nose and keep your mouth shut. Your right shoe is an oxygen canister and don't even think about asking how it works because I don't know, it just does."

"You seem stressed. I would offer to get you a cup of tea... but I'm stuck in a tube that is filling up with water! Sugar! What if the parade goes on for ages and I run out of air!"

"Queue Zizal. If you run out of air just tap on the glass and he will." Pinna mimes someone hitting a nail with a hammer. I glance at Zizal and spot the nail and hammer in his hands. I also notice the sheer jealousy plastered on his face. I don't blame him, if situations were reversed I would be pretty miffed.

When the water reaches my chin I stick the tubes up my nose. The water keeps on rising... wait... wait... wait... wait... I am still alive!

When the cylinder if full the hose is turned off and taken out.

"Aiza... Aiza open your eyes!" Oh right. "And raise your arms just a little bit." I do as Pinna says, "Fab-u-lus!" Key and Thistle give us a thumbs up and motion for us to smile as Zizal steps onto the chariot. District 6's chariot heads out and then we are moving.

The noise outside is deafening. Music is playing and the crowds are cheering. There are even fireworks bursting in the starry night sky. Reds, greens and golds against the inky blue sky. If this were any other parade it would be fantastic. But it's not, it's a Hunger Games parade.

I steel a glance at the screens and do a double take. All the cameras are on me and heck, they should be... I look amazing! You cannot see my shoes so it looks like I am floating, the tubes are invisible as well; it must look like magic! My hair is floating at odd angles but I still look stunning.

Maybe this parade won't be so bad after all.

I start to relax and wave to my adoring crowd. Drinking in the shouts of my name.

The spotlight must shine one everyone eventually, so why can't it be my turn tonight?

Three hours later I find myself tucked up in bed with a reading lamp on beside me and a program of the parade in my hands. No cylinders were smashed and I didn't drown so in the scheme of things tonight was pretty well... oh who am I kidding tonight was amazing! I had the best outfit by far!

But now I must be serious. It is time to learn names. If I am going to kill them I might at least have the politeness to learn their names.

I open the program. The names are laid out in a circle just like the districts are in real life. I memorise the names; round the districts, girl then boy:

Halo Missle

Toga Mann

Cee Fox

Victor Vallis – how cocky can you get?!

Bloom Jeffory

Chase Browning

Venus Antle

Jorge Luck – Luck, you'll need it!

Camille Walk

Rover Izz

Minni Unos

Hill Isslington

Aiza Monett – Yours truly

Zizal Karry

Nelly Hommes

Liam Kindle

Kacy Niles

Blue Castle

Nettle Ponol

Pine Nastil

Cleo Lance

Pepper Fevais

Delly Jump

Redmund Ocho.

I cut my name out of the programme and put it in my pocket (who put pockets in pyjamas?). Because it is the year of the rose in the capitol calendar all the names have a rose by them.

Looking at the tributes names and the flowers and the circle reminds me of a nursery rhyme my sister and I use to sing when we were little:

_Ring-a-ring-a roses A pocket full of poses Atishoo Atishoo They all fall down... _

A nursery rhyme that is about to come true. One rose, Zizal's rose, is already wilting. 

**A/N: Sorry if there are any mistakes I rushed to finish this tonight and have not proof read it and sorry this chapter has taken sooo long! Flame me if you want (wait don't I might get upset). Thankyou if you have stuck with me so far on this story, it means a lot to me. Hopefully the next chapters will be easier to write. I know twins called Cinna and Pinna is a bit cheesy but they are from the capitol! Please tell me what you think of this chapter because personally I hated it.**

**Please review,**

**Adios!**


	8. Spotlight Truth: Preview

**A/N: Sorry I have not been able to update in ages, I've been bogged down with homework these first few weeks of school and my laptop broke, so yeah you get the picture. I am trying to find a spare moment to actually write. **

**The whole chapter should be posted within a week but here is what I have written so far... **

Chapter 6: Spotlight Truth

_The wild dog walks away. She is left there, dead. Her hair should melt the snow, but of course it is just a colour... not real fire. Her blood stains the snow though; turning a winter wonderland into a red grave sheltered by a pine tree. I want to reach out, to hold her hand... to close her eyes. I try to lift my arm, straining to reach her but I can't. I look at my arm to see what is wrong but only one thing comes into focus; the writing all up my arm, all over my body the same word over and over again... MURDERER! _

Tears dampen my face. I lie deadly still too afraid to look in a mirror. Slowly, ever so slowly like a cat stalking a mouse I free my arm from the covers. It's clean, there are no words. Of course there aren't, stupid me, it was just a dream. There wasn't really any snow, there wasn't really any writing... there wasn't really my sister. I might as well face it, I am never going to see my sister ever again – dead or alive.

There is a knock on the door. I turn my head and scream.

A girl is standing there, a girl with the face I just swore I would never lay eyes on again – my sister.

She takes one look at my face, turns on her heels and runs. I leap out of bed and run after her. I chase her down corridor after corridor and up countless flights of stairs. Eventually she stops in front of a door, knocks politely and slips inside. A couple of second later I barrel through the door. My sister has her back to me; she is opening the curtains in the room. I am surprised that I acknowledge the colour, blue. I hear a door close, then a voice...

"Aiza, isn't it?" The voice is not my sisters, it's a man's voice, I turn around. Peeta Mellark has just closed the door behind me. He is wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, I turn away embarrassed.

I manage to mutter a response, "Yeah." I look around the room Katniss Everdeen sits on the edge of the bed in her pyjamas. Oops, I think I might have barged straight into their bedroom. But why did my sister come in here?

"Are you okay?"

"I, I, I don't know." I'm not sure how I'm feeling. Any certainty I ever had has gone out the window.

"Can we help you?" It is Katniss who speaks this time. I shrug my shoulders.

"What is she doing here?" I say pointing to my sister. I feel Peeta's hand on my shoulder,

"Aiza, she's an Avox. She is just doing her duties." I drop to my knees. Katniss is by my side in a flash. I stare at my sister mustering up the courage to say her name for the first time in four years,

"Karmille."

**A/N: Sorry it was so short and rubbish but I hated keeping you guys waiting. Thanks for sticking with me though. Love you guys xx**


End file.
